(no subject)

[le_russe_satan]

Title: Fan
Pairing: Sharpe/Wellington
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Um, PWP? Everything geared towards indulgin my kink? XD

 The first tremor of the new dawn tinged the white stone bench with violet; the half-opened fan lying on it seemed like a deep shadow out of place, not a an object of substance. Arthur picked it up and fingered the black lace idly. No doubt one of his ADC’s got a little carried away when entertaining a lady of certain profession the night before if he dared bring her here. At the very least, the ‘lady’ in question had taste if the quality of the lace was anything to go by.

 The garden seemed thoughtful, its air clear of the fragrance of night flowers and filled with breathless silence, the trees and the bushes motionless and the waterways still. The marble tiles were smooth and cool under his feet: he couldn’t quite believe he actually came out here in nothing but his robe. A robe, for which his specifications got somehow misinterpreted along the way. Not only it was too long, its hem trailing along the floor and its sleeves covering his hands until only the fingertips were visible, it was also made from a single layer of ivory silk embroidered with gold thread along the edges. But Arthur was grateful for it: he could not quite bring himself to remain naked even in the privacy of his rooms even in the Indian heat, and this was the lightest clothing article he possessed. 

 He told himself that there was nothing to be worried about: everyone was asleep, trying to catch the few hours of the night and early morning when it was cool enough to sleep comfortably, and if someone did see him, well soldiers saw each other naked and made nothing of it.

 Arthur hitched up the robe to his knees and sat down on the edge of the pool, his legs breaking the perfectly still, mirror-like surface of the water. He almost sighed in pleasure: the water was pumped from deep wells and  was blessedly cool. The blackness of the sky continued turning into the dark violet, a lighter edge appearing at the very horizon. Unfurling the fan languidly, he wondered if he could go as far as taking a swim, or did he commit enough eccentricities for the day. Suddenly, there was a thud somewhere behind the trees, near the garden wall. Arthur tensed, sitting up straighter, fingers tightening around the now closed fan reflexively. 

 Sharpe was dressed in just his trousers and a surprisingly white shirt open at the neck. His long black hair were tied back in a messy ponytail,  a long lock that escaped the ribbon framing his face. A strange of embarrassment and exhilaration spread like a hot wave in his chest, but nothing betrayed it except the minute tremor of the fan’s lace. Immediately his mind presented him with a picture of the kiss they shared two days ago, a kiss that would have no doubt led much further if they were not interrupted, but now even the prospect of another kiss, another touch was making Arthur wary.

‘Sharpe, what are you doing here?’ Asked Arthur putting as much coldness into his voice as possible. Sharpe sauntered closer.
‘Was gonna climb the wall to your room,’ he grinned and sat down by the pool’s edge, some way away from Arthur, which was strangely disappointing. ‘Thought you said to come by.’ The fact was, that Arthur did, when he was straightening his neck cloth and fervently hoping that his lips were not too kiss-swollen. He looked down at the fan that his fingers were opening and closing nervously. ‘Yes, I just did not expect…’

‘That I would?’ continued Sharpe for him. The fan snapped shut with a crack. ‘I don’t know much about gentlefolk, but I thought that fans were only a ladies’ thing,’ the younger man smirked. At least he did not make a comment about the robe thought Arthur briefly before snapping the fan open again and lifting it slightly as if he wanted to study its lace better. ‘I found it here.’
‘Been bringing ladies into the headquarters?’ Sharpe’s voice was full of mirth and Arthur found it hard to be annoyed or anxious. He lifted the fan, fluttering it lightly just below the chin, the silken sleeve sliding down his arm and gathering in soft folds.
‘Really, Richard, how can you possibly say such a thing?' Sharpe chuckled but there was a glint in his eyes now that Arthur couldn’t quite decipher, or maybe it was just the lighter violet of the sky reflecting in them.
‘Oh, I’m sure you don’t lack for admirers.’ The lace edge of the fan touched Arthur’s lips briefly, thoughtfully.
‘Perhaps. It doesn’t mean I am going to satisfy them all.’ Suddenly Sharpe was in the water, wading across the pool towards him. It was shallow, just reaching Sharpe’s waist, but the shirt started soaking up the liquid immediately and by the time he reached Arthur, it was sticking to his abdomen.

‘But you satisfy some?’ The fan was lifted higher, both a flirtatious gesture and an attempt to disguise the blush that threatened to mantle Arthur’s cheeks as Sharpe’s hands stroked his calves under water.
‘Only a very select few, my dear,’ the hands pushed his legs apart gently and the skirts of the robe folded in his lap slithered down his thighs and dipped into the pool.
‘How few?’ Sharpe stood between his legs now and Arthur struggled not to wrap them around him. The fan’s fluttering became a little erratic as Sharpe bent down and kissed his thigh.
‘Very few. Exclusive you might say.’ Sharpe looked up at him, the man’s fingers untying the robe’s belt slowly.
‘Oh and what does that mean?’ Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

‘It means that satisfying one admirer is quite enough for me.’ The fan stilled and dropped a little lower as the robe fell open. Sharpe’s hands closed on his waist and suddenly he was pulled down into the water, the robe floating like a white flower on the surface.

‘That’s good.’ The fan fell into the water and sank slowly as Sharpe kissed him. It was just as searing and mind numbing as the first time. He did not care that they were to all intents and purposes in public, well, he did, but nothing was going to stop him now. Lowering his hands into the water he tugged at Sharpe’s shirt, pulling it out and then off. He ran his hands over the warm skin of the man’s chest and shivered as the Sharpe lowered the robe off his shoulders to kiss and lick a pathway down his neck to where it joined the shoulder. Arthur breathed a little heavier and fumbled with Sharpe’s trousers. This was not going to be about exploration, this was going to be about passion and desire that begged for release. Everything they did was instinctive. As soon as Arthur touched his cock Sharpe gasped, bit down on his shoulder and lifted him up in a silent command.  Without any hesitation Arthur wrapped his legs around Sharpe’s waist and let himself be pressed against the pool’s edge. The silk of the robe that now covered only his upper arms and lower back caught on the stone and made a ripping noise. They didn’t notice. Sharpe’s fingers already slid inside him and both were concentrated on their motion. Finally Arthur made a sound in his throat that Sharpe correctly interpreted as a request for more. He adjusted himself, the water splashing and rippling around them, and was drawn in into a tight, warm wetness. There were no moans, just harsh, heavy breaths as Sharpe rocked inside him with a sinuous rhythm. Sharpe bent down to kiss him, changing the angle of his thrusts, and his cock found Arthur’s prostate. He started bucking his hips, meeting each thrust, his fingers leaving reddened crescents on the skin of Sharpe’s back. Sharpe tightened his hold on him and wrapped one hand around  Arthur’s cock, matching its movements with that of his hips. It didn’t take long before Arthur’s head fell back and he came, his seed forming milky threads in the water and glistening on their skin. Sharpe rode him through his orgasm and now came too with a guttural moan, his chest heaving and skin shining with both sweat and water.  

 As they climbed out of the pool the sky had already turned pink and the air began to fill with the mixed fragrance of numerous flowers that started to open in anticipation of the sunlight, but the house seemed just as asleep as the moment Arthur picked up the fan. They made their way into the house leaving a wet trail in their wake, and no matter how much against he was such a foolish action, Arthur allowed Sharpe to kiss him in the hallway. The fan lay forgotten on the bottom of the pool.
 

Comments

[viggosterri.livejournal.com]

wow

[le-russe-satan.livejournal.com]

Hope that's a good wow. ;)

[govi20.livejournal.com]

Lovely and hot! Thank you for sharing.

[le-russe-satan.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :D

[vjezkova.livejournal.com]

Such a fan can be a very significant item...with these two men. Thanks'

[le-russe-satan.livejournal.com]

Especially for me. XD